Dior!

Bom dia!

[cherdior]

"Bom dia! Nice to meet 'ya!"

⋆⁺ ☀︎ ₊⋆ dior! | she/her | brazil shoyo lover.

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currently writing . . . "Till' Death Do Us Part - Bucky Barnes" ⤿ Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go.

[cherdior]

Till' Death Do Us Part.

Bucky Barnes x ghost!reader

synopsis – Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go. warnings – angst! word count – 1.5k author's note – A simple drabble, but I cried while writing this haha! Think this is one of the most sentimental thing I've ever written. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this! <3

“Y’know, Sam is insufferable with social media.”

He starts off as he goes into the living room with two cups of coffee. One black coffee with no sugar, another exactly how you like it to be made. You frowned at what he said.

“He keeps on sending these funny videos.” He chuckles while handing you a cup of coffee. One where the cup doesn’t warm up the cold on your palms.

“What do they call it?” He continues as he takes the TV’s remote control on the table and puts on a series that you two are binge-watching.

“Memes?” You guessed with your head tilted, amused at his constant rambling. He’s got even way chattier these days with you.

He nods, letting out a hum of approval while taking a sip of his coffee. He swallowed it down and licked the remaining taste of coffee on his lips.

“I run to my phone ringing because I thought it might be an emergency, but it was just this guy calling me to check out these videos.”

He took a seat on the couch and patted on the empty seat next to him. He flashes you a smile with a face of expectations that you’d join him once again for your night routine.

As his invite was left hanging, his smile drops. His brows stitched together, forming a frown. He picks up on how anxious you’re acting. The fiddling of your fingers, the constant moving of your leg.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a hint of worry. He gets up from his seat and approaches you.

He has noticed how quiet you’ve been these past few nights. His jokes are not replied with the same snarky remarks that you’d make, complaining how his level of comedy is horrid. By this time, you should’ve already asked what nonsense videos Sam sent to him. But no, you kept quiet.

You trail the cup of coffee in front of you, treading on the topic that you are about to discuss carefully. “I’ve just been thinking.”

He blinks a few times, processing your words. “Okay. About what?”

He maintains eye contact. Slightly leaning down to be on eye level with you who is seated. A habit that he always does, one that you had picked up first, before he admitted that he does it because he literally applies the ‘to meet eye-to-eye’ concept whenever you have these serious talks.

“You–” You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“You need to stop this, Buck.”

You meet the blue eyes in front of you. You took a gulp of what feels like a lump inside your throat and a taste of guilt in your tastebuds. Nonetheless, you were done pretending. It was eating the both of you inside and out.

“Stop what?” He asks obliviously.

A shake in his voice could be heard, and you just know that he is nervous. He knows. He knows the next words that you are about to say. He knew this day would come, but not this fast, he thought. He still wanted you to stay.

“Bucky.” You deadpanned at him. “Stop acting as if I am here.”

His heart dropped at what you said.

“What?” He says in disbelief.

He stays ignorant of the truth that lies in front of him. He let his ego claim his all, but was it really wrong of him? To want you next to him? This world kept on taking from him, while he keeps on giving away everything. Now it has taken his love. Can he, for this once, be egoistical?

“Stop leaving a space on the couch as if I’m still here to sit next to you. Stop making two cups of coffee when one is going to go to waste in the morning. Stop putting on the same episode every night.”

Truth be told, he has always known you were never there.

The space on the other end of the couch that stayed cold after he finished watching the series didn’t go unnoticed to him.

He knew because the coffee that you ‘received’ was never actually held by you and was only placed by him in front of you on the table. You’ve never even touched it.

He acts as if the reason he repeatedly plays the same episode of the series is not because it is the last episode that you watched together with him. On the last night that you were there with him.

The pale on your lips made it obvious. He recognises your skin that stays dull under the slim street light that entered the window’s living room made it obvious. He sees the discolouration under your eyes.

However, he doesn’t miss out on how some parts of you stayed the same even without life. Your voice still carries the softness of a feather, one that speaks like silk and sounds like melodies to his ears. Your eyes somehow still have the glimmer that he fell in love with. Even death could not take that shine from you.

“I’ll be gone, and you’d have to be okay with it, Buck.”

His heart dropped. Live without you? No. No, that’s not possible. That would be telling him to breathe without oxygen. To eat without appetite. To have the sky disappear and the earth engulfed in darkness. Once you’re gone, his world does too. If you leave, you’re taking the moon, the stars and the sun with you.

“You’ll be okay.”

You say with such confidence, he might even believe that he’d be okay without you.

You smiled at him. Not out of pity. The genuine smile that has always managed to bring one to his face too. And though he could hear the shattering of his heart, he gave out another smile back to you.

Your hand caresses his face. That was what his eyes saw. Yet, he could not feel an ounce of pressure on your hands. It was hollow. He only felt the stone-cold breeze on his cheeks, with the absence of life lacing on your fingertips.

His vision was getting blurry.

Is it because of the welled up tears in the corner of his eyes? He’s okay with that. You seeing him cry. Because you’d always wipe his tears and hold him together. You were a glue that brought broken pieces of his soul together.

Or was it you? You blurring from the reality of this world because you are the only foreign matter around. He could not tell the lines of what is real and what is not anymore. But you look at him with such a soft look that he wants it to be real.

His tears spill.

You tried to wipe his tears, only to no avail. You hated that. As if the world has now created a barrier between you two despite how close the both of you are. His tears stream down, passing through your fingers. You felt hopeless, as if he were slipping out of your hand, and you were not able to hold him tighter.

“I’ll be okay.”

He repeated your words with a whisper. He saw your hurt. Though his heart aches to see you leave from his mind, it would kill him to be the reason you suffer. He would rather have the world torture him than to see a frown on your lips or a tear in your eye.

That was all you’ve ever wanted to hear. That he’d be okay. The both of you touched your temples together, sharing a mutual understanding with each other.

For the last time, he kisses you.

And for a moment, you are actually there.

He could feel the softness of your lips on his. He almost forgot how soft it was. There was no sense of rush, no lust whatsoever. Your kiss was so full of love; he felt undeserving of it. He has never felt so alive. He could feel each vein inside of him rush with blood. He could hear his heart pound. His whole body bursting with chemical reactions. He could feel the ecstasy, the electrifying rush, yet still a comfortable warmth throughout his body.

He holds you. He tries to remember each curve of your body. He could sense the usual warmth that you’d always radiate. He reminds himself that it feels like the sunrise in the morning. Like a fresh coffee running down his throat. The bonfires that you’d have while camping with your loved ones.

He puts his head on the crook of your neck. He breathes in slowly, taking in your scent. Familiar, grounding. He recognises your scent and names it as the calming scent that he’d always smell once stepping inside your home together.

He could feel your fingertips running through his hair just like the nights you’d hold him. He sighs. He notes to himself that you would always massage his scalp. You’d trace gently downwards, then continue to hold the back of his neck.

He wishes he could stop time right now because it has been such a long time he remembers how good it was to be in your arms. To him, the world somehow seemed kinder, only because you were there holding him together for one last time.

“I love you, Buck. Forever.”

“I love you always, Y/n.”

A whisper of promise. An oath taken in front of life’s and death’s presence.

And just like that, you were gone. Out of time and out of his touch.

But one thing he is certain of is that you will never truly disappear.

You’re still there. In the laughter he shares, he’d get reminded of how your laughter always echoes throughout the room. In the warmth of a bonfire, he’d recall the warmth of your hold. In the moments where he felt worthless, he’d remember how you loved him even to your last breath. In every corner of this house, there’d be traces of you, and he’ll live in the remnants of you.

You were never just a stepping stone in his life or another chapter in his story. You were his beginning and ending. The clock of his life started when he met you and came to a halt when he lost you. Ultimately, you were the last stop in his train of life. Even death itself could not do part the love that he had for you.

[alagalaska]

IM NOT CRYING, YOU ARE! 😭 literally, this destroyed me. Thanks for stomping all over my heart 😫🤣 this was beautiful and so sad, thank you for posting ❤

[cherdior]

You’re not alone, i cried while writing it too! 😭 So so glad that it touched your heart and that you enjoyed it. Thank you so much for your kind words!! 🤍🤍

[cherdior]

Till' Death Do Us Part.

Bucky Barnes x ghost!reader

synopsis – Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go. warnings – angst! word count – 1.5k author's note – A simple drabble, but I cried while writing this haha! Think this is one of the most sentimental thing I've ever written. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this! <3

“Y’know, Sam is insufferable with social media.”

He starts off as he goes into the living room with two cups of coffee. One black coffee with no sugar, another exactly how you like it to be made. You frowned at what he said.

“He keeps on sending these funny videos.” He chuckles while handing you a cup of coffee. One where the cup doesn’t warm up the cold on your palms.

“What do they call it?” He continues as he takes the TV’s remote control on the table and puts on a series that you two are binge-watching.

“Memes?” You guessed with your head tilted, amused at his constant rambling. He’s got even way chattier these days with you.

He nods, letting out a hum of approval while taking a sip of his coffee. He swallowed it down and licked the remaining taste of coffee on his lips.

“I run to my phone ringing because I thought it might be an emergency, but it was just this guy calling me to check out these videos.”

He took a seat on the couch and patted on the empty seat next to him. He flashes you a smile with a face of expectations that you’d join him once again for your night routine.

As his invite was left hanging, his smile drops. His brows stitched together, forming a frown. He picks up on how anxious you’re acting. The fiddling of your fingers, the constant moving of your leg.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a hint of worry. He gets up from his seat and approaches you.

He has noticed how quiet you’ve been these past few nights. His jokes are not replied with the same snarky remarks that you’d make, complaining how his level of comedy is horrid. By this time, you should’ve already asked what nonsense videos Sam sent to him. But no, you kept quiet.

You trail the cup of coffee in front of you, treading on the topic that you are about to discuss carefully. “I’ve just been thinking.”

He blinks a few times, processing your words. “Okay. About what?”

He maintains eye contact. Slightly leaning down to be on eye level with you who is seated. A habit that he always does, one that you had picked up first, before he admitted that he does it because he literally applies the ‘to meet eye-to-eye’ concept whenever you have these serious talks.

“You–” You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“You need to stop this, Buck.”

You meet the blue eyes in front of you. You took a gulp of what feels like a lump inside your throat and a taste of guilt in your tastebuds. Nonetheless, you were done pretending. It was eating the both of you inside and out.

“Stop what?” He asks obliviously.

A shake in his voice could be heard, and you just know that he is nervous. He knows. He knows the next words that you are about to say. He knew this day would come, but not this fast, he thought. He still wanted you to stay.

“Bucky.” You deadpanned at him. “Stop acting as if I am here.”

His heart dropped at what you said.

“What?” He says in disbelief.

He stays ignorant of the truth that lies in front of him. He let his ego claim his all, but was it really wrong of him? To want you next to him? This world kept on taking from him, while he keeps on giving away everything. Now it has taken his love. Can he, for this once, be egoistical?

“Stop leaving a space on the couch as if I’m still here to sit next to you. Stop making two cups of coffee when one is going to go to waste in the morning. Stop putting on the same episode every night.”

Truth be told, he has always known you were never there.

The space on the other end of the couch that stayed cold after he finished watching the series didn’t go unnoticed to him.

He knew because the coffee that you ‘received’ was never actually held by you and was only placed by him in front of you on the table. You’ve never even touched it.

He acts as if the reason he repeatedly plays the same episode of the series is not because it is the last episode that you watched together with him. On the last night that you were there with him.

The pale on your lips made it obvious. He recognises your skin that stays dull under the slim street light that entered the window’s living room made it obvious. He sees the discolouration under your eyes.

However, he doesn’t miss out on how some parts of you stayed the same even without life. Your voice still carries the softness of a feather, one that speaks like silk and sounds like melodies to his ears. Your eyes somehow still have the glimmer that he fell in love with. Even death could not take that shine from you.

“I’ll be gone, and you’d have to be okay with it, Buck.”

His heart dropped. Live without you? No. No, that’s not possible. That would be telling him to breathe without oxygen. To eat without appetite. To have the sky disappear and the earth engulfed in darkness. Once you’re gone, his world does too. If you leave, you’re taking the moon, the stars and the sun with you.

“You’ll be okay.”

You say with such confidence, he might even believe that he’d be okay without you.

You smiled at him. Not out of pity. The genuine smile that has always managed to bring one to his face too. And though he could hear the shattering of his heart, he gave out another smile back to you.

Your hand caresses his face. That was what his eyes saw. Yet, he could not feel an ounce of pressure on your hands. It was hollow. He only felt the stone-cold breeze on his cheeks, with the absence of life lacing on your fingertips.

His vision was getting blurry.

Is it because of the welled up tears in the corner of his eyes? He’s okay with that. You seeing him cry. Because you’d always wipe his tears and hold him together. You were a glue that brought broken pieces of his soul together.

Or was it you? You blurring from the reality of this world because you are the only foreign matter around. He could not tell the lines of what is real and what is not anymore. But you look at him with such a soft look that he wants it to be real.

His tears spill.

You tried to wipe his tears, only to no avail. You hated that. As if the world has now created a barrier between you two despite how close the both of you are. His tears stream down, passing through your fingers. You felt hopeless, as if he were slipping out of your hand, and you were not able to hold him tighter.

“I’ll be okay.”

He repeated your words with a whisper. He saw your hurt. Though his heart aches to see you leave from his mind, it would kill him to be the reason you suffer. He would rather have the world torture him than to see a frown on your lips or a tear in your eye.

That was all you’ve ever wanted to hear. That he’d be okay. The both of you touched your temples together, sharing a mutual understanding with each other.

For the last time, he kisses you.

And for a moment, you are actually there.

He could feel the softness of your lips on his. He almost forgot how soft it was. There was no sense of rush, no lust whatsoever. Your kiss was so full of love; he felt undeserving of it. He has never felt so alive. He could feel each vein inside of him rush with blood. He could hear his heart pound. His whole body bursting with chemical reactions. He could feel the ecstasy, the electrifying rush, yet still a comfortable warmth throughout his body.

He holds you. He tries to remember each curve of your body. He could sense the usual warmth that you’d always radiate. He reminds himself that it feels like the sunrise in the morning. Like a fresh coffee running down his throat. The bonfires that you’d have while camping with your loved ones.

He puts his head on the crook of your neck. He breathes in slowly, taking in your scent. Familiar, grounding. He recognises your scent and names it as the calming scent that he’d always smell once stepping inside your home together.

He could feel your fingertips running through his hair just like the nights you’d hold him. He sighs. He notes to himself that you would always massage his scalp. You’d trace gently downwards, then continue to hold the back of his neck.

He wishes he could stop time right now because it has been such a long time he remembers how good it was to be in your arms. To him, the world somehow seemed kinder, only because you were there holding him together for one last time.

“I love you, Buck. Forever.”

“I love you always, Y/n.”

A whisper of promise. An oath taken in front of life’s and death’s presence.

And just like that, you were gone. Out of time and out of his touch.

But one thing he is certain of is that you will never truly disappear.

You’re still there. In the laughter he shares, he’d get reminded of how your laughter always echoes throughout the room. In the warmth of a bonfire, he’d recall the warmth of your hold. In the moments where he felt worthless, he’d remember how you loved him even to your last breath. In every corner of this house, there’d be traces of you, and he’ll live in the remnants of you.

You were never just a stepping stone in his life or another chapter in his story. You were his beginning and ending. The clock of his life started when he met you and came to a halt when he lost you. Ultimately, you were the last stop in his train of life. Even death itself could not do part the love that he had for you.

[buckysmetalgoddamnarm]

That was absolutely beautiful. I was hooked from the beginning and crying way too early in😭

[cherdior]

UGH so glad that you enjoyed itt!! Very kind of you to say it was beautiful 🤍 Glad that it was able to touch your heart, thank you so much for reading. 🥹

[cherdior]

Till' Death Do Us Part.

Bucky Barnes x ghost!reader

synopsis – Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go. warnings – angst! word count – 1.5k author's note – A simple drabble, but I cried while writing this haha! Think this is one of the most sentimental thing I've ever written. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this! <3

“Y’know, Sam is insufferable with social media.”

He starts off as he goes into the living room with two cups of coffee. One black coffee with no sugar, another exactly how you like it to be made. You frowned at what he said.

“He keeps on sending these funny videos.” He chuckles while handing you a cup of coffee. One where the cup doesn’t warm up the cold on your palms.

“What do they call it?” He continues as he takes the TV’s remote control on the table and puts on a series that you two are binge-watching.

“Memes?” You guessed with your head tilted, amused at his constant rambling. He’s got even way chattier these days with you.

He nods, letting out a hum of approval while taking a sip of his coffee. He swallowed it down and licked the remaining taste of coffee on his lips.

“I run to my phone ringing because I thought it might be an emergency, but it was just this guy calling me to check out these videos.”

He took a seat on the couch and patted on the empty seat next to him. He flashes you a smile with a face of expectations that you’d join him once again for your night routine.

As his invite was left hanging, his smile drops. His brows stitched together, forming a frown. He picks up on how anxious you’re acting. The fiddling of your fingers, the constant moving of your leg.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a hint of worry. He gets up from his seat and approaches you.

He has noticed how quiet you’ve been these past few nights. His jokes are not replied with the same snarky remarks that you’d make, complaining how his level of comedy is horrid. By this time, you should’ve already asked what nonsense videos Sam sent to him. But no, you kept quiet.

You trail the cup of coffee in front of you, treading on the topic that you are about to discuss carefully. “I’ve just been thinking.”

He blinks a few times, processing your words. “Okay. About what?”

He maintains eye contact. Slightly leaning down to be on eye level with you who is seated. A habit that he always does, one that you had picked up first, before he admitted that he does it because he literally applies the ‘to meet eye-to-eye’ concept whenever you have these serious talks.

“You–” You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“You need to stop this, Buck.”

You meet the blue eyes in front of you. You took a gulp of what feels like a lump inside your throat and a taste of guilt in your tastebuds. Nonetheless, you were done pretending. It was eating the both of you inside and out.

“Stop what?” He asks obliviously.

A shake in his voice could be heard, and you just know that he is nervous. He knows. He knows the next words that you are about to say. He knew this day would come, but not this fast, he thought. He still wanted you to stay.

“Bucky.” You deadpanned at him. “Stop acting as if I am here.”

His heart dropped at what you said.

“What?” He says in disbelief.

He stays ignorant of the truth that lies in front of him. He let his ego claim his all, but was it really wrong of him? To want you next to him? This world kept on taking from him, while he keeps on giving away everything. Now it has taken his love. Can he, for this once, be egoistical?

“Stop leaving a space on the couch as if I’m still here to sit next to you. Stop making two cups of coffee when one is going to go to waste in the morning. Stop putting on the same episode every night.”

Truth be told, he has always known you were never there.

The space on the other end of the couch that stayed cold after he finished watching the series didn’t go unnoticed to him.

He knew because the coffee that you ‘received’ was never actually held by you and was only placed by him in front of you on the table. You’ve never even touched it.

He acts as if the reason he repeatedly plays the same episode of the series is not because it is the last episode that you watched together with him. On the last night that you were there with him.

The pale on your lips made it obvious. He recognises your skin that stays dull under the slim street light that entered the window’s living room made it obvious. He sees the discolouration under your eyes.

However, he doesn’t miss out on how some parts of you stayed the same even without life. Your voice still carries the softness of a feather, one that speaks like silk and sounds like melodies to his ears. Your eyes somehow still have the glimmer that he fell in love with. Even death could not take that shine from you.

“I’ll be gone, and you’d have to be okay with it, Buck.”

His heart dropped. Live without you? No. No, that’s not possible. That would be telling him to breathe without oxygen. To eat without appetite. To have the sky disappear and the earth engulfed in darkness. Once you’re gone, his world does too. If you leave, you’re taking the moon, the stars and the sun with you.

“You’ll be okay.”

You say with such confidence, he might even believe that he’d be okay without you.

You smiled at him. Not out of pity. The genuine smile that has always managed to bring one to his face too. And though he could hear the shattering of his heart, he gave out another smile back to you.

Your hand caresses his face. That was what his eyes saw. Yet, he could not feel an ounce of pressure on your hands. It was hollow. He only felt the stone-cold breeze on his cheeks, with the absence of life lacing on your fingertips.

His vision was getting blurry.

Is it because of the welled up tears in the corner of his eyes? He’s okay with that. You seeing him cry. Because you’d always wipe his tears and hold him together. You were a glue that brought broken pieces of his soul together.

Or was it you? You blurring from the reality of this world because you are the only foreign matter around. He could not tell the lines of what is real and what is not anymore. But you look at him with such a soft look that he wants it to be real.

His tears spill.

You tried to wipe his tears, only to no avail. You hated that. As if the world has now created a barrier between you two despite how close the both of you are. His tears stream down, passing through your fingers. You felt hopeless, as if he were slipping out of your hand, and you were not able to hold him tighter.

“I’ll be okay.”

He repeated your words with a whisper. He saw your hurt. Though his heart aches to see you leave from his mind, it would kill him to be the reason you suffer. He would rather have the world torture him than to see a frown on your lips or a tear in your eye.

That was all you’ve ever wanted to hear. That he’d be okay. The both of you touched your temples together, sharing a mutual understanding with each other.

For the last time, he kisses you.

And for a moment, you are actually there.

He could feel the softness of your lips on his. He almost forgot how soft it was. There was no sense of rush, no lust whatsoever. Your kiss was so full of love; he felt undeserving of it. He has never felt so alive. He could feel each vein inside of him rush with blood. He could hear his heart pound. His whole body bursting with chemical reactions. He could feel the ecstasy, the electrifying rush, yet still a comfortable warmth throughout his body.

He holds you. He tries to remember each curve of your body. He could sense the usual warmth that you’d always radiate. He reminds himself that it feels like the sunrise in the morning. Like a fresh coffee running down his throat. The bonfires that you’d have while camping with your loved ones.

He puts his head on the crook of your neck. He breathes in slowly, taking in your scent. Familiar, grounding. He recognises your scent and names it as the calming scent that he’d always smell once stepping inside your home together.

He could feel your fingertips running through his hair just like the nights you’d hold him. He sighs. He notes to himself that you would always massage his scalp. You’d trace gently downwards, then continue to hold the back of his neck.

He wishes he could stop time right now because it has been such a long time he remembers how good it was to be in your arms. To him, the world somehow seemed kinder, only because you were there holding him together for one last time.

“I love you, Buck. Forever.”

“I love you always, Y/n.”

A whisper of promise. An oath taken in front of life’s and death’s presence.

And just like that, you were gone. Out of time and out of his touch.

But one thing he is certain of is that you will never truly disappear.

You’re still there. In the laughter he shares, he’d get reminded of how your laughter always echoes throughout the room. In the warmth of a bonfire, he’d recall the warmth of your hold. In the moments where he felt worthless, he’d remember how you loved him even to your last breath. In every corner of this house, there’d be traces of you, and he’ll live in the remnants of you.

You were never just a stepping stone in his life or another chapter in his story. You were his beginning and ending. The clock of his life started when he met you and came to a halt when he lost you. Ultimately, you were the last stop in his train of life. Even death itself could not do part the love that he had for you.

[buckyismysafehaven]

WHO IS CUTTING ONIONS???

[cherdior]

i’m cutting my 5th onion here 😋 HAHA, thank u for leaving a comment! kinda happy that i made u shed a tear 🤍

[cherdior]

Till' Death Do Us Part.

Bucky Barnes x ghost!reader

synopsis – Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go. warnings – angst! word count – 1.5k author's note – A simple drabble, but I cried while writing this haha! Think this is one of the most sentimental thing I've ever written. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this! <3

“Y’know, Sam is insufferable with social media.”

He starts off as he goes into the living room with two cups of coffee. One black coffee with no sugar, another exactly how you like it to be made. You frowned at what he said.

“He keeps on sending these funny videos.” He chuckles while handing you a cup of coffee. One where the cup doesn’t warm up the cold on your palms.

“What do they call it?” He continues as he takes the TV’s remote control on the table and puts on a series that you two are binge-watching.

“Memes?” You guessed with your head tilted, amused at his constant rambling. He’s got even way chattier these days with you.

He nods, letting out a hum of approval while taking a sip of his coffee. He swallowed it down and licked the remaining taste of coffee on his lips.

“I run to my phone ringing because I thought it might be an emergency, but it was just this guy calling me to check out these videos.”

He took a seat on the couch and patted on the empty seat next to him. He flashes you a smile with a face of expectations that you’d join him once again for your night routine.

As his invite was left hanging, his smile drops. His brows stitched together, forming a frown. He picks up on how anxious you’re acting. The fiddling of your fingers, the constant moving of your leg.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a hint of worry. He gets up from his seat and approaches you.

He has noticed how quiet you’ve been these past few nights. His jokes are not replied with the same snarky remarks that you’d make, complaining how his level of comedy is horrid. By this time, you should’ve already asked what nonsense videos Sam sent to him. But no, you kept quiet.

You trail the cup of coffee in front of you, treading on the topic that you are about to discuss carefully. “I’ve just been thinking.”

He blinks a few times, processing your words. “Okay. About what?”

He maintains eye contact. Slightly leaning down to be on eye level with you who is seated. A habit that he always does, one that you had picked up first, before he admitted that he does it because he literally applies the ‘to meet eye-to-eye’ concept whenever you have these serious talks.

“You–” You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“You need to stop this, Buck.”

You meet the blue eyes in front of you. You took a gulp of what feels like a lump inside your throat and a taste of guilt in your tastebuds. Nonetheless, you were done pretending. It was eating the both of you inside and out.

“Stop what?” He asks obliviously.

A shake in his voice could be heard, and you just know that he is nervous. He knows. He knows the next words that you are about to say. He knew this day would come, but not this fast, he thought. He still wanted you to stay.

“Bucky.” You deadpanned at him. “Stop acting as if I am here.”

His heart dropped at what you said.

“What?” He says in disbelief.

He stays ignorant of the truth that lies in front of him. He let his ego claim his all, but was it really wrong of him? To want you next to him? This world kept on taking from him, while he keeps on giving away everything. Now it has taken his love. Can he, for this once, be egoistical?

“Stop leaving a space on the couch as if I’m still here to sit next to you. Stop making two cups of coffee when one is going to go to waste in the morning. Stop putting on the same episode every night.”

Truth be told, he has always known you were never there.

The space on the other end of the couch that stayed cold after he finished watching the series didn’t go unnoticed to him.

He knew because the coffee that you ‘received’ was never actually held by you and was only placed by him in front of you on the table. You’ve never even touched it.

He acts as if the reason he repeatedly plays the same episode of the series is not because it is the last episode that you watched together with him. On the last night that you were there with him.

The pale on your lips made it obvious. He recognises your skin that stays dull under the slim street light that entered the window’s living room made it obvious. He sees the discolouration under your eyes.

However, he doesn’t miss out on how some parts of you stayed the same even without life. Your voice still carries the softness of a feather, one that speaks like silk and sounds like melodies to his ears. Your eyes somehow still have the glimmer that he fell in love with. Even death could not take that shine from you.

“I’ll be gone, and you’d have to be okay with it, Buck.”

His heart dropped. Live without you? No. No, that’s not possible. That would be telling him to breathe without oxygen. To eat without appetite. To have the sky disappear and the earth engulfed in darkness. Once you’re gone, his world does too. If you leave, you’re taking the moon, the stars and the sun with you.

“You’ll be okay.”

You say with such confidence, he might even believe that he’d be okay without you.

You smiled at him. Not out of pity. The genuine smile that has always managed to bring one to his face too. And though he could hear the shattering of his heart, he gave out another smile back to you.

Your hand caresses his face. That was what his eyes saw. Yet, he could not feel an ounce of pressure on your hands. It was hollow. He only felt the stone-cold breeze on his cheeks, with the absence of life lacing on your fingertips.

His vision was getting blurry.

Is it because of the welled up tears in the corner of his eyes? He’s okay with that. You seeing him cry. Because you’d always wipe his tears and hold him together. You were a glue that brought broken pieces of his soul together.

Or was it you? You blurring from the reality of this world because you are the only foreign matter around. He could not tell the lines of what is real and what is not anymore. But you look at him with such a soft look that he wants it to be real.

His tears spill.

You tried to wipe his tears, only to no avail. You hated that. As if the world has now created a barrier between you two despite how close the both of you are. His tears stream down, passing through your fingers. You felt hopeless, as if he were slipping out of your hand, and you were not able to hold him tighter.

“I’ll be okay.”

He repeated your words with a whisper. He saw your hurt. Though his heart aches to see you leave from his mind, it would kill him to be the reason you suffer. He would rather have the world torture him than to see a frown on your lips or a tear in your eye.

That was all you’ve ever wanted to hear. That he’d be okay. The both of you touched your temples together, sharing a mutual understanding with each other.

For the last time, he kisses you.

And for a moment, you are actually there.

He could feel the softness of your lips on his. He almost forgot how soft it was. There was no sense of rush, no lust whatsoever. Your kiss was so full of love; he felt undeserving of it. He has never felt so alive. He could feel each vein inside of him rush with blood. He could hear his heart pound. His whole body bursting with chemical reactions. He could feel the ecstasy, the electrifying rush, yet still a comfortable warmth throughout his body.

He holds you. He tries to remember each curve of your body. He could sense the usual warmth that you’d always radiate. He reminds himself that it feels like the sunrise in the morning. Like a fresh coffee running down his throat. The bonfires that you’d have while camping with your loved ones.

He puts his head on the crook of your neck. He breathes in slowly, taking in your scent. Familiar, grounding. He recognises your scent and names it as the calming scent that he’d always smell once stepping inside your home together.

He could feel your fingertips running through his hair just like the nights you’d hold him. He sighs. He notes to himself that you would always massage his scalp. You’d trace gently downwards, then continue to hold the back of his neck.

He wishes he could stop time right now because it has been such a long time he remembers how good it was to be in your arms. To him, the world somehow seemed kinder, only because you were there holding him together for one last time.

“I love you, Buck. Forever.”

“I love you always, Y/n.”

A whisper of promise. An oath taken in front of life’s and death’s presence.

And just like that, you were gone. Out of time and out of his touch.

But one thing he is certain of is that you will never truly disappear.

You’re still there. In the laughter he shares, he’d get reminded of how your laughter always echoes throughout the room. In the warmth of a bonfire, he’d recall the warmth of your hold. In the moments where he felt worthless, he’d remember how you loved him even to your last breath. In every corner of this house, there’d be traces of you, and he’ll live in the remnants of you.

You were never just a stepping stone in his life or another chapter in his story. You were his beginning and ending. The clock of his life started when he met you and came to a halt when he lost you. Ultimately, you were the last stop in his train of life. Even death itself could not do part the love that he had for you.

[mcira]

Heartbreaking 💔 😭 but so beautifully written

[cherdior]

I’m so sorry but I’m glad that u found it heartbreaking 😭 Wasn’t sure how it’d land, so that means a lot to me. Appreciate it lots! 🤍

[cherdior]

Till' Death Do Us Part.

Bucky Barnes x ghost!reader

synopsis – Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go. warnings – angst! word count – 1.5k author's note – A simple drabble, but I cried while writing this haha! Think this is one of the most sentimental thing I've ever written. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this! <3

“Y’know, Sam is insufferable with social media.”

He starts off as he goes into the living room with two cups of coffee. One black coffee with no sugar, another exactly how you like it to be made. You frowned at what he said.

“He keeps on sending these funny videos.” He chuckles while handing you a cup of coffee. One where the cup doesn’t warm up the cold on your palms.

“What do they call it?” He continues as he takes the TV’s remote control on the table and puts on a series that you two are binge-watching.

“Memes?” You guessed with your head tilted, amused at his constant rambling. He’s got even way chattier these days with you.

He nods, letting out a hum of approval while taking a sip of his coffee. He swallowed it down and licked the remaining taste of coffee on his lips.

“I run to my phone ringing because I thought it might be an emergency, but it was just this guy calling me to check out these videos.”

He took a seat on the couch and patted on the empty seat next to him. He flashes you a smile with a face of expectations that you’d join him once again for your night routine.

As his invite was left hanging, his smile drops. His brows stitched together, forming a frown. He picks up on how anxious you’re acting. The fiddling of your fingers, the constant moving of your leg.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a hint of worry. He gets up from his seat and approaches you.

He has noticed how quiet you’ve been these past few nights. His jokes are not replied with the same snarky remarks that you’d make, complaining how his level of comedy is horrid. By this time, you should’ve already asked what nonsense videos Sam sent to him. But no, you kept quiet.

You trail the cup of coffee in front of you, treading on the topic that you are about to discuss carefully. “I’ve just been thinking.”

He blinks a few times, processing your words. “Okay. About what?”

He maintains eye contact. Slightly leaning down to be on eye level with you who is seated. A habit that he always does, one that you had picked up first, before he admitted that he does it because he literally applies the ‘to meet eye-to-eye’ concept whenever you have these serious talks.

“You–” You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“You need to stop this, Buck.”

You meet the blue eyes in front of you. You took a gulp of what feels like a lump inside your throat and a taste of guilt in your tastebuds. Nonetheless, you were done pretending. It was eating the both of you inside and out.

“Stop what?” He asks obliviously.

A shake in his voice could be heard, and you just know that he is nervous. He knows. He knows the next words that you are about to say. He knew this day would come, but not this fast, he thought. He still wanted you to stay.

“Bucky.” You deadpanned at him. “Stop acting as if I am here.”

His heart dropped at what you said.

“What?” He says in disbelief.

He stays ignorant of the truth that lies in front of him. He let his ego claim his all, but was it really wrong of him? To want you next to him? This world kept on taking from him, while he keeps on giving away everything. Now it has taken his love. Can he, for this once, be egoistical?

“Stop leaving a space on the couch as if I’m still here to sit next to you. Stop making two cups of coffee when one is going to go to waste in the morning. Stop putting on the same episode every night.”

Truth be told, he has always known you were never there.

The space on the other end of the couch that stayed cold after he finished watching the series didn’t go unnoticed to him.

He knew because the coffee that you ‘received’ was never actually held by you and was only placed by him in front of you on the table. You’ve never even touched it.

He acts as if the reason he repeatedly plays the same episode of the series is not because it is the last episode that you watched together with him. On the last night that you were there with him.

The pale on your lips made it obvious. He recognises your skin that stays dull under the slim street light that entered the window’s living room made it obvious. He sees the discolouration under your eyes.

However, he doesn’t miss out on how some parts of you stayed the same even without life. Your voice still carries the softness of a feather, one that speaks like silk and sounds like melodies to his ears. Your eyes somehow still have the glimmer that he fell in love with. Even death could not take that shine from you.

“I’ll be gone, and you’d have to be okay with it, Buck.”

His heart dropped. Live without you? No. No, that’s not possible. That would be telling him to breathe without oxygen. To eat without appetite. To have the sky disappear and the earth engulfed in darkness. Once you’re gone, his world does too. If you leave, you’re taking the moon, the stars and the sun with you.

“You’ll be okay.”

You say with such confidence, he might even believe that he’d be okay without you.

You smiled at him. Not out of pity. The genuine smile that has always managed to bring one to his face too. And though he could hear the shattering of his heart, he gave out another smile back to you.

Your hand caresses his face. That was what his eyes saw. Yet, he could not feel an ounce of pressure on your hands. It was hollow. He only felt the stone-cold breeze on his cheeks, with the absence of life lacing on your fingertips.

His vision was getting blurry.

Is it because of the welled up tears in the corner of his eyes? He’s okay with that. You seeing him cry. Because you’d always wipe his tears and hold him together. You were a glue that brought broken pieces of his soul together.

Or was it you? You blurring from the reality of this world because you are the only foreign matter around. He could not tell the lines of what is real and what is not anymore. But you look at him with such a soft look that he wants it to be real.

His tears spill.

You tried to wipe his tears, only to no avail. You hated that. As if the world has now created a barrier between you two despite how close the both of you are. His tears stream down, passing through your fingers. You felt hopeless, as if he were slipping out of your hand, and you were not able to hold him tighter.

“I’ll be okay.”

He repeated your words with a whisper. He saw your hurt. Though his heart aches to see you leave from his mind, it would kill him to be the reason you suffer. He would rather have the world torture him than to see a frown on your lips or a tear in your eye.

That was all you’ve ever wanted to hear. That he’d be okay. The both of you touched your temples together, sharing a mutual understanding with each other.

For the last time, he kisses you.

And for a moment, you are actually there.

He could feel the softness of your lips on his. He almost forgot how soft it was. There was no sense of rush, no lust whatsoever. Your kiss was so full of love; he felt undeserving of it. He has never felt so alive. He could feel each vein inside of him rush with blood. He could hear his heart pound. His whole body bursting with chemical reactions. He could feel the ecstasy, the electrifying rush, yet still a comfortable warmth throughout his body.

He holds you. He tries to remember each curve of your body. He could sense the usual warmth that you’d always radiate. He reminds himself that it feels like the sunrise in the morning. Like a fresh coffee running down his throat. The bonfires that you’d have while camping with your loved ones.

He puts his head on the crook of your neck. He breathes in slowly, taking in your scent. Familiar, grounding. He recognises your scent and names it as the calming scent that he’d always smell once stepping inside your home together.

He could feel your fingertips running through his hair just like the nights you’d hold him. He sighs. He notes to himself that you would always massage his scalp. You’d trace gently downwards, then continue to hold the back of his neck.

He wishes he could stop time right now because it has been such a long time he remembers how good it was to be in your arms. To him, the world somehow seemed kinder, only because you were there holding him together for one last time.

“I love you, Buck. Forever.”

“I love you always, Y/n.”

A whisper of promise. An oath taken in front of life’s and death’s presence.

And just like that, you were gone. Out of time and out of his touch.

But one thing he is certain of is that you will never truly disappear.

You’re still there. In the laughter he shares, he’d get reminded of how your laughter always echoes throughout the room. In the warmth of a bonfire, he’d recall the warmth of your hold. In the moments where he felt worthless, he’d remember how you loved him even to your last breath. In every corner of this house, there’d be traces of you, and he’ll live in the remnants of you.

You were never just a stepping stone in his life or another chapter in his story. You were his beginning and ending. The clock of his life started when he met you and came to a halt when he lost you. Ultimately, you were the last stop in his train of life. Even death itself could not do part the love that he had for you.

[buckybarnes82]

[societyfolklore]

Oh NO!

NOONONONONONONONONONONONONONOONO

NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

..... *sob*

[cherdior]

When you love someone so bad that it hurts 😞✊🏻 Thank you for leaving a reblog darling 🤍

[cherdior]

Till' Death Do Us Part.

Bucky Barnes x ghost!reader

synopsis – Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go. warnings – angst! word count – 1.5k author's note – A simple drabble, but I cried while writing this haha! Think this is one of the most sentimental thing I've ever written. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this! <3

“Y’know, Sam is insufferable with social media.”

He starts off as he goes into the living room with two cups of coffee. One black coffee with no sugar, another exactly how you like it to be made. You frowned at what he said.

“He keeps on sending these funny videos.” He chuckles while handing you a cup of coffee. One where the cup doesn’t warm up the cold on your palms.

“What do they call it?” He continues as he takes the TV’s remote control on the table and puts on a series that you two are binge-watching.

“Memes?” You guessed with your head tilted, amused at his constant rambling. He’s got even way chattier these days with you.

He nods, letting out a hum of approval while taking a sip of his coffee. He swallowed it down and licked the remaining taste of coffee on his lips.

“I run to my phone ringing because I thought it might be an emergency, but it was just this guy calling me to check out these videos.”

He took a seat on the couch and patted on the empty seat next to him. He flashes you a smile with a face of expectations that you’d join him once again for your night routine.

As his invite was left hanging, his smile drops. His brows stitched together, forming a frown. He picks up on how anxious you’re acting. The fiddling of your fingers, the constant moving of your leg.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a hint of worry. He gets up from his seat and approaches you.

He has noticed how quiet you’ve been these past few nights. His jokes are not replied with the same snarky remarks that you’d make, complaining how his level of comedy is horrid. By this time, you should’ve already asked what nonsense videos Sam sent to him. But no, you kept quiet.

You trail the cup of coffee in front of you, treading on the topic that you are about to discuss carefully. “I’ve just been thinking.”

He blinks a few times, processing your words. “Okay. About what?”

He maintains eye contact. Slightly leaning down to be on eye level with you who is seated. A habit that he always does, one that you had picked up first, before he admitted that he does it because he literally applies the ‘to meet eye-to-eye’ concept whenever you have these serious talks.

“You–” You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“You need to stop this, Buck.”

You meet the blue eyes in front of you. You took a gulp of what feels like a lump inside your throat and a taste of guilt in your tastebuds. Nonetheless, you were done pretending. It was eating the both of you inside and out.

“Stop what?” He asks obliviously.

A shake in his voice could be heard, and you just know that he is nervous. He knows. He knows the next words that you are about to say. He knew this day would come, but not this fast, he thought. He still wanted you to stay.

“Bucky.” You deadpanned at him. “Stop acting as if I am here.”

His heart dropped at what you said.

“What?” He says in disbelief.

He stays ignorant of the truth that lies in front of him. He let his ego claim his all, but was it really wrong of him? To want you next to him? This world kept on taking from him, while he keeps on giving away everything. Now it has taken his love. Can he, for this once, be egoistical?

“Stop leaving a space on the couch as if I’m still here to sit next to you. Stop making two cups of coffee when one is going to go to waste in the morning. Stop putting on the same episode every night.”

Truth be told, he has always known you were never there.

The space on the other end of the couch that stayed cold after he finished watching the series didn’t go unnoticed to him.

He knew because the coffee that you ‘received’ was never actually held by you and was only placed by him in front of you on the table. You’ve never even touched it.

He acts as if the reason he repeatedly plays the same episode of the series is not because it is the last episode that you watched together with him. On the last night that you were there with him.

The pale on your lips made it obvious. He recognises your skin that stays dull under the slim street light that entered the window’s living room made it obvious. He sees the discolouration under your eyes.

However, he doesn’t miss out on how some parts of you stayed the same even without life. Your voice still carries the softness of a feather, one that speaks like silk and sounds like melodies to his ears. Your eyes somehow still have the glimmer that he fell in love with. Even death could not take that shine from you.

“I’ll be gone, and you’d have to be okay with it, Buck.”

His heart dropped. Live without you? No. No, that’s not possible. That would be telling him to breathe without oxygen. To eat without appetite. To have the sky disappear and the earth engulfed in darkness. Once you’re gone, his world does too. If you leave, you’re taking the moon, the stars and the sun with you.

“You’ll be okay.”

You say with such confidence, he might even believe that he’d be okay without you.

You smiled at him. Not out of pity. The genuine smile that has always managed to bring one to his face too. And though he could hear the shattering of his heart, he gave out another smile back to you.

Your hand caresses his face. That was what his eyes saw. Yet, he could not feel an ounce of pressure on your hands. It was hollow. He only felt the stone-cold breeze on his cheeks, with the absence of life lacing on your fingertips.

His vision was getting blurry.

Is it because of the welled up tears in the corner of his eyes? He’s okay with that. You seeing him cry. Because you’d always wipe his tears and hold him together. You were a glue that brought broken pieces of his soul together.

Or was it you? You blurring from the reality of this world because you are the only foreign matter around. He could not tell the lines of what is real and what is not anymore. But you look at him with such a soft look that he wants it to be real.

His tears spill.

You tried to wipe his tears, only to no avail. You hated that. As if the world has now created a barrier between you two despite how close the both of you are. His tears stream down, passing through your fingers. You felt hopeless, as if he were slipping out of your hand, and you were not able to hold him tighter.

“I’ll be okay.”

He repeated your words with a whisper. He saw your hurt. Though his heart aches to see you leave from his mind, it would kill him to be the reason you suffer. He would rather have the world torture him than to see a frown on your lips or a tear in your eye.

That was all you’ve ever wanted to hear. That he’d be okay. The both of you touched your temples together, sharing a mutual understanding with each other.

For the last time, he kisses you.

And for a moment, you are actually there.

He could feel the softness of your lips on his. He almost forgot how soft it was. There was no sense of rush, no lust whatsoever. Your kiss was so full of love; he felt undeserving of it. He has never felt so alive. He could feel each vein inside of him rush with blood. He could hear his heart pound. His whole body bursting with chemical reactions. He could feel the ecstasy, the electrifying rush, yet still a comfortable warmth throughout his body.

He holds you. He tries to remember each curve of your body. He could sense the usual warmth that you’d always radiate. He reminds himself that it feels like the sunrise in the morning. Like a fresh coffee running down his throat. The bonfires that you’d have while camping with your loved ones.

He puts his head on the crook of your neck. He breathes in slowly, taking in your scent. Familiar, grounding. He recognises your scent and names it as the calming scent that he’d always smell once stepping inside your home together.

He could feel your fingertips running through his hair just like the nights you’d hold him. He sighs. He notes to himself that you would always massage his scalp. You’d trace gently downwards, then continue to hold the back of his neck.

He wishes he could stop time right now because it has been such a long time he remembers how good it was to be in your arms. To him, the world somehow seemed kinder, only because you were there holding him together for one last time.

“I love you, Buck. Forever.”

“I love you always, Y/n.”

A whisper of promise. An oath taken in front of life’s and death’s presence.

And just like that, you were gone. Out of time and out of his touch.

But one thing he is certain of is that you will never truly disappear.

You’re still there. In the laughter he shares, he’d get reminded of how your laughter always echoes throughout the room. In the warmth of a bonfire, he’d recall the warmth of your hold. In the moments where he felt worthless, he’d remember how you loved him even to your last breath. In every corner of this house, there’d be traces of you, and he’ll live in the remnants of you.

You were never just a stepping stone in his life or another chapter in his story. You were his beginning and ending. The clock of his life started when he met you and came to a halt when he lost you. Ultimately, you were the last stop in his train of life. Even death itself could not do part the love that he had for you.

[buckybarnes82]

[cherdior]

If writing angst is a crime, I might be sentenced to death. Thank you so much for reblogging hon, appreciate it! <3

[cherdior]

Till' Death Do Us Part.

Bucky Barnes x ghost!reader

synopsis – Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go. warnings – angst! word count – 1.5k author's note – A simple drabble, but I cried while writing this haha! Think this is one of the most sentimental thing I've ever written. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this! <3

“Y’know, Sam is insufferable with social media.”

He starts off as he goes into the living room with two cups of coffee. One black coffee with no sugar, another exactly how you like it to be made. You frowned at what he said.

“He keeps on sending these funny videos.” He chuckles while handing you a cup of coffee. One where the cup doesn’t warm up the cold on your palms.

“What do they call it?” He continues as he takes the TV’s remote control on the table and puts on a series that you two are binge-watching.

“Memes?” You guessed with your head tilted, amused at his constant rambling. He’s got even way chattier these days with you.

He nods, letting out a hum of approval while taking a sip of his coffee. He swallowed it down and licked the remaining taste of coffee on his lips.

“I run to my phone ringing because I thought it might be an emergency, but it was just this guy calling me to check out these videos.”

He took a seat on the couch and patted on the empty seat next to him. He flashes you a smile with a face of expectations that you’d join him once again for your night routine.

As his invite was left hanging, his smile drops. His brows stitched together, forming a frown. He picks up on how anxious you’re acting. The fiddling of your fingers, the constant moving of your leg.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a hint of worry. He gets up from his seat and approaches you.

He has noticed how quiet you’ve been these past few nights. His jokes are not replied with the same snarky remarks that you’d make, complaining how his level of comedy is horrid. By this time, you should’ve already asked what nonsense videos Sam sent to him. But no, you kept quiet.

You trail the cup of coffee in front of you, treading on the topic that you are about to discuss carefully. “I’ve just been thinking.”

He blinks a few times, processing your words. “Okay. About what?”

He maintains eye contact. Slightly leaning down to be on eye level with you who is seated. A habit that he always does, one that you had picked up first, before he admitted that he does it because he literally applies the ‘to meet eye-to-eye’ concept whenever you have these serious talks.

“You–” You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“You need to stop this, Buck.”

You meet the blue eyes in front of you. You took a gulp of what feels like a lump inside your throat and a taste of guilt in your tastebuds. Nonetheless, you were done pretending. It was eating the both of you inside and out.

“Stop what?” He asks obliviously.

A shake in his voice could be heard, and you just know that he is nervous. He knows. He knows the next words that you are about to say. He knew this day would come, but not this fast, he thought. He still wanted you to stay.

“Bucky.” You deadpanned at him. “Stop acting as if I am here.”

His heart dropped at what you said.

“What?” He says in disbelief.

He stays ignorant of the truth that lies in front of him. He let his ego claim his all, but was it really wrong of him? To want you next to him? This world kept on taking from him, while he keeps on giving away everything. Now it has taken his love. Can he, for this once, be egoistical?

“Stop leaving a space on the couch as if I’m still here to sit next to you. Stop making two cups of coffee when one is going to go to waste in the morning. Stop putting on the same episode every night.”

Truth be told, he has always known you were never there.

The space on the other end of the couch that stayed cold after he finished watching the series didn’t go unnoticed to him.

He knew because the coffee that you ‘received’ was never actually held by you and was only placed by him in front of you on the table. You’ve never even touched it.

He acts as if the reason he repeatedly plays the same episode of the series is not because it is the last episode that you watched together with him. On the last night that you were there with him.

The pale on your lips made it obvious. He recognises your skin that stays dull under the slim street light that entered the window’s living room made it obvious. He sees the discolouration under your eyes.

However, he doesn’t miss out on how some parts of you stayed the same even without life. Your voice still carries the softness of a feather, one that speaks like silk and sounds like melodies to his ears. Your eyes somehow still have the glimmer that he fell in love with. Even death could not take that shine from you.

“I’ll be gone, and you’d have to be okay with it, Buck.”

His heart dropped. Live without you? No. No, that’s not possible. That would be telling him to breathe without oxygen. To eat without appetite. To have the sky disappear and the earth engulfed in darkness. Once you’re gone, his world does too. If you leave, you’re taking the moon, the stars and the sun with you.

“You’ll be okay.”

You say with such confidence, he might even believe that he’d be okay without you.

You smiled at him. Not out of pity. The genuine smile that has always managed to bring one to his face too. And though he could hear the shattering of his heart, he gave out another smile back to you.

Your hand caresses his face. That was what his eyes saw. Yet, he could not feel an ounce of pressure on your hands. It was hollow. He only felt the stone-cold breeze on his cheeks, with the absence of life lacing on your fingertips.

His vision was getting blurry.

Is it because of the welled up tears in the corner of his eyes? He’s okay with that. You seeing him cry. Because you’d always wipe his tears and hold him together. You were a glue that brought broken pieces of his soul together.

Or was it you? You blurring from the reality of this world because you are the only foreign matter around. He could not tell the lines of what is real and what is not anymore. But you look at him with such a soft look that he wants it to be real.

His tears spill.

You tried to wipe his tears, only to no avail. You hated that. As if the world has now created a barrier between you two despite how close the both of you are. His tears stream down, passing through your fingers. You felt hopeless, as if he were slipping out of your hand, and you were not able to hold him tighter.

“I’ll be okay.”

He repeated your words with a whisper. He saw your hurt. Though his heart aches to see you leave from his mind, it would kill him to be the reason you suffer. He would rather have the world torture him than to see a frown on your lips or a tear in your eye.

That was all you’ve ever wanted to hear. That he’d be okay. The both of you touched your temples together, sharing a mutual understanding with each other.

For the last time, he kisses you.

And for a moment, you are actually there.

He could feel the softness of your lips on his. He almost forgot how soft it was. There was no sense of rush, no lust whatsoever. Your kiss was so full of love; he felt undeserving of it. He has never felt so alive. He could feel each vein inside of him rush with blood. He could hear his heart pound. His whole body bursting with chemical reactions. He could feel the ecstasy, the electrifying rush, yet still a comfortable warmth throughout his body.

He holds you. He tries to remember each curve of your body. He could sense the usual warmth that you’d always radiate. He reminds himself that it feels like the sunrise in the morning. Like a fresh coffee running down his throat. The bonfires that you’d have while camping with your loved ones.

He puts his head on the crook of your neck. He breathes in slowly, taking in your scent. Familiar, grounding. He recognises your scent and names it as the calming scent that he’d always smell once stepping inside your home together.

He could feel your fingertips running through his hair just like the nights you’d hold him. He sighs. He notes to himself that you would always massage his scalp. You’d trace gently downwards, then continue to hold the back of his neck.

He wishes he could stop time right now because it has been such a long time he remembers how good it was to be in your arms. To him, the world somehow seemed kinder, only because you were there holding him together for one last time.

“I love you, Buck. Forever.”

“I love you always, Y/n.”

A whisper of promise. An oath taken in front of life’s and death’s presence.

And just like that, you were gone. Out of time and out of his touch.

But one thing he is certain of is that you will never truly disappear.

You’re still there. In the laughter he shares, he’d get reminded of how your laughter always echoes throughout the room. In the warmth of a bonfire, he’d recall the warmth of your hold. In the moments where he felt worthless, he’d remember how you loved him even to your last breath. In every corner of this house, there’d be traces of you, and he’ll live in the remnants of you.

You were never just a stepping stone in his life or another chapter in his story. You were his beginning and ending. The clock of his life started when he met you and came to a halt when he lost you. Ultimately, you were the last stop in his train of life. Even death itself could not do part the love that he had for you.

[nameless-ken]

How dare you!

give me more please

[cherdior]

I apologize, but I just love writing angst that much 💔 Currently working on a new one, be sure to look out for it!

[cherdior]

Till' Death Do Us Part.

Bucky Barnes x ghost!reader

synopsis – Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go. warnings – angst! word count – 1.5k author's note – A simple drabble, but I cried while writing this haha! Think this is one of the most sentimental thing I've ever written. I hope you’ll enjoy reading this! <3

“Y’know, Sam is insufferable with social media.”

He starts off as he goes into the living room with two cups of coffee. One black coffee with no sugar, another exactly how you like it to be made. You frowned at what he said.

“He keeps on sending these funny videos.” He chuckles while handing you a cup of coffee. One where the cup doesn’t warm up the cold on your palms.

“What do they call it?” He continues as he takes the TV’s remote control on the table and puts on a series that you two are binge-watching.

“Memes?” You guessed with your head tilted, amused at his constant rambling. He’s got even way chattier these days with you.

He nods, letting out a hum of approval while taking a sip of his coffee. He swallowed it down and licked the remaining taste of coffee on his lips.

“I run to my phone ringing because I thought it might be an emergency, but it was just this guy calling me to check out these videos.”

He took a seat on the couch and patted on the empty seat next to him. He flashes you a smile with a face of expectations that you’d join him once again for your night routine.

As his invite was left hanging, his smile drops. His brows stitched together, forming a frown. He picks up on how anxious you’re acting. The fiddling of your fingers, the constant moving of your leg.

“What’s wrong?” He says with a hint of worry. He gets up from his seat and approaches you.

He has noticed how quiet you’ve been these past few nights. His jokes are not replied with the same snarky remarks that you’d make, complaining how his level of comedy is horrid. By this time, you should’ve already asked what nonsense videos Sam sent to him. But no, you kept quiet.

You trail the cup of coffee in front of you, treading on the topic that you are about to discuss carefully. “I’ve just been thinking.”

He blinks a few times, processing your words. “Okay. About what?”

He maintains eye contact. Slightly leaning down to be on eye level with you who is seated. A habit that he always does, one that you had picked up first, before he admitted that he does it because he literally applies the ‘to meet eye-to-eye’ concept whenever you have these serious talks.

“You–” You took a deep breath and ran your fingers through your hair.

“You need to stop this, Buck.”

You meet the blue eyes in front of you. You took a gulp of what feels like a lump inside your throat and a taste of guilt in your tastebuds. Nonetheless, you were done pretending. It was eating the both of you inside and out.

“Stop what?” He asks obliviously.

A shake in his voice could be heard, and you just know that he is nervous. He knows. He knows the next words that you are about to say. He knew this day would come, but not this fast, he thought. He still wanted you to stay.

“Bucky.” You deadpanned at him. “Stop acting as if I am here.”

His heart dropped at what you said.

“What?” He says in disbelief.

He stays ignorant of the truth that lies in front of him. He let his ego claim his all, but was it really wrong of him? To want you next to him? This world kept on taking from him, while he keeps on giving away everything. Now it has taken his love. Can he, for this once, be egoistical?

“Stop leaving a space on the couch as if I’m still here to sit next to you. Stop making two cups of coffee when one is going to go to waste in the morning. Stop putting on the same episode every night.”

Truth be told, he has always known you were never there.

The space on the other end of the couch that stayed cold after he finished watching the series didn’t go unnoticed to him.

He knew because the coffee that you ‘received’ was never actually held by you and was only placed by him in front of you on the table. You’ve never even touched it.

He acts as if the reason he repeatedly plays the same episode of the series is not because it is the last episode that you watched together with him. On the last night that you were there with him.

The pale on your lips made it obvious. He recognises your skin that stays dull under the slim street light that entered the window’s living room made it obvious. He sees the discolouration under your eyes.

However, he doesn’t miss out on how some parts of you stayed the same even without life. Your voice still carries the softness of a feather, one that speaks like silk and sounds like melodies to his ears. Your eyes somehow still have the glimmer that he fell in love with. Even death could not take that shine from you.

“I’ll be gone, and you’d have to be okay with it, Buck.”

His heart dropped. Live without you? No. No, that’s not possible. That would be telling him to breathe without oxygen. To eat without appetite. To have the sky disappear and the earth engulfed in darkness. Once you’re gone, his world does too. If you leave, you’re taking the moon, the stars and the sun with you.

“You’ll be okay.”

You say with such confidence, he might even believe that he’d be okay without you.

You smiled at him. Not out of pity. The genuine smile that has always managed to bring one to his face too. And though he could hear the shattering of his heart, he gave out another smile back to you.

Your hand caresses his face. That was what his eyes saw. Yet, he could not feel an ounce of pressure on your hands. It was hollow. He only felt the stone-cold breeze on his cheeks, with the absence of life lacing on your fingertips.

His vision was getting blurry.

Is it because of the welled up tears in the corner of his eyes? He’s okay with that. You seeing him cry. Because you’d always wipe his tears and hold him together. You were a glue that brought broken pieces of his soul together.

Or was it you? You blurring from the reality of this world because you are the only foreign matter around. He could not tell the lines of what is real and what is not anymore. But you look at him with such a soft look that he wants it to be real.

His tears spill.

You tried to wipe his tears, only to no avail. You hated that. As if the world has now created a barrier between you two despite how close the both of you are. His tears stream down, passing through your fingers. You felt hopeless, as if he were slipping out of your hand, and you were not able to hold him tighter.

“I’ll be okay.”

He repeated your words with a whisper. He saw your hurt. Though his heart aches to see you leave from his mind, it would kill him to be the reason you suffer. He would rather have the world torture him than to see a frown on your lips or a tear in your eye.

That was all you’ve ever wanted to hear. That he’d be okay. The both of you touched your temples together, sharing a mutual understanding with each other.

For the last time, he kisses you.

And for a moment, you are actually there.

He could feel the softness of your lips on his. He almost forgot how soft it was. There was no sense of rush, no lust whatsoever. Your kiss was so full of love; he felt undeserving of it. He has never felt so alive. He could feel each vein inside of him rush with blood. He could hear his heart pound. His whole body bursting with chemical reactions. He could feel the ecstasy, the electrifying rush, yet still a comfortable warmth throughout his body.

He holds you. He tries to remember each curve of your body. He could sense the usual warmth that you’d always radiate. He reminds himself that it feels like the sunrise in the morning. Like a fresh coffee running down his throat. The bonfires that you’d have while camping with your loved ones.

He puts his head on the crook of your neck. He breathes in slowly, taking in your scent. Familiar, grounding. He recognises your scent and names it as the calming scent that he’d always smell once stepping inside your home together.

He could feel your fingertips running through his hair just like the nights you’d hold him. He sighs. He notes to himself that you would always massage his scalp. You’d trace gently downwards, then continue to hold the back of his neck.

He wishes he could stop time right now because it has been such a long time he remembers how good it was to be in your arms. To him, the world somehow seemed kinder, only because you were there holding him together for one last time.

“I love you, Buck. Forever.”

“I love you always, Y/n.”

A whisper of promise. An oath taken in front of life’s and death’s presence.

And just like that, you were gone. Out of time and out of his touch.

But one thing he is certain of is that you will never truly disappear.

You’re still there. In the laughter he shares, he’d get reminded of how your laughter always echoes throughout the room. In the warmth of a bonfire, he’d recall the warmth of your hold. In the moments where he felt worthless, he’d remember how you loved him even to your last breath. In every corner of this house, there’d be traces of you, and he’ll live in the remnants of you.

You were never just a stepping stone in his life or another chapter in his story. You were his beginning and ending. The clock of his life started when he met you and came to a halt when he lost you. Ultimately, you were the last stop in his train of life. Even death itself could not do part the love that he had for you.

[cherdior]

Exes and Explosions

tony stark x gn!reader

synopsis – After quite some time away from each other, an emergency reunites old partners. The difference? You both have grown. warnings – mild angst! word count – 2.3k background – You were once in a relationship with Tony Stark. Even before, you were already the best of friends. However, that relationship didn't last long as you both were too immature. author's note – I have never wrote something this long! Genuinely loved every second writing this, likewise, I hope you enjoy reading it too.

“What do you mean you can’t fix it?” Steve argues with the man in the suit and glasses, furrowing his eyebrows. It was not the first time the tower had been blown up due to their missions. However, today, it has seemed like they have finally hit a wall.

Tony takes a bite of his hot dog, looking at the hot mess that the mission has resulted in. “The tower requires the generator’s power. The generator’s toasted.”

“Then fix the generator?” Clint says, gathering his arrows together and sorting them back into the casing with a shrug. “I really don’t see the problem.”

“The problem here, lord of the underworld, I’m not the one who created the damn generator. I don’t know its interior structure. If I tinker with it, the whole tower might as well just be a rubble of overpriced junk.” Tony sighs.

Natasha frowns at this. “Then if you’re not the one who created it, who did?”

Just then, the elevator bell rang, signalling the arrival of the awaited. Your steps resonated with the floor, gathering the attention of the people.

“Welcome back to the friendly abode.” Tony stands behind the kitchen island, lazily opening his arms and forcing a smile. “Hope I didn’t bother you.”

You deadpanned at this. “One moment I’m enjoying my date, the next minute I get a call from an ex about my work being blown up. How convenient, Stark.” A hint of annoyance was heard in your tone.

You took off your coat and rest it on the chair, throwing your bag on the sofa. You took your glasses that sit on your shirt and put them into use. Scanning the area of the room, along with the people too.

A couple of oohs were heard in the room. Eyes directed to Tony after what you had uttered.

“She’s your ex?” Clint mouthed to Tony, with a look of disbelief.

“No way.” Natasha mutters.

Tony was offended with these remarks, scarring his ego. Just about to defend himself due to their disbelief, his sentence was cut.

Extending your hand, you introduced your name to the silent one in the corner of the room. “Doctor Banner. I’m a big fan of your work. Exquisite.” You shot a warm smile towards him as he expressed his gratitude towards your words with a little “Thank you”.

You continued to shake hands with each of them, lastly with the blonde Asgardian. “Thor, son of Odin. I have heard a lot about you.” You reached out your arms to him. Returning you the smile and shaking your hand, he proceeds to say your name, “Ah, you must be the famed ex of Tony Stark. He speaks of you with great passion. Mostly under the influence of alcohol.” Oh, Tony was losing his mind. He facepalms while you were having the time of your life.

“Hope only good stuff about me?” You chuckled, releasing the hold, approaching the so-called billionaire playboy with raised eyebrows. You were teasing him. Of course you were.

Tony let out a big huff, placing the glass on the island with more force than necessary. He then poured himself a glass of his stored whiskey. “Only the best.” He says, chugging the alcohol that leaves a burning mark down his throat. He snaps his fingers, opening the holograms, and calls on the AI. “Okay, wake up FRIDAY, and get your butts working fellas.”

After all day long working in the lab, time somehow slips by faster than ever, and eventually the clock strikes midnight. Tony had suggested for you to spend the night in the compound, just like the old times. And as everyone had settled back in to their own bedrooms, you were about to do the same until you saw the balcony lights were still on and somehow expected the person who’d be awake at such times.

“Never would’ve guessed that you’d be here.” Your voice breaks the silence that ghosts Tony, yet somehow it doesn’t surprise him. You’ve always known where to find him. Years of being together doesn’t lie to you.

“Geez, miss resolved and adult conversations is here to grace me. What an honor to be in your presence.” He cracked his jokes, immediately bringing comfort to the conversation. He has always been great at those stuffs. You know, making you comfortable.

You approached him with light steps, yet your shoes still hit the concrete and let out footstep sounds. “Well, I could play the years of unresolved trauma and egoistical maniac card. Wanna try?” You asked as you placed yourself next to him. Not too far, not too close. Just enough.

“Tempting. But we both have tried that one. Spoiler alert! We didn’t work out.” He creates a blow-up gesture, initiating the messed up relationship that you both had.

You let out a half-hearted laugh. You both have finally reached the stage that you could joke about your past like it was some type of misery. Yet, it has never failed to sting your heart a little, as they were indeed the best moments in your life.

“You look great, by the way.” He suddenly compliments.

“I know. The coat that I just bought is so-”

“No- not the clothes. Well, it is pretty. But I’m talking about you.” He looks into your eyes. “You being comfortable in your own skin. Confident.” He waves his hand, signalling your upbringing with his gestures. He put back his arms and put it in his pocket. “Guess time was kinder to you than it was to me.”

You stayed silent for a moment. “Thank you, Tony. But time simply gave me space. It gave you that too. I chose to listen to myself, you didn’t. You chose to listen to the world.”

Before he say his words, you continue. “And I’m not saying that your choice is wrong or anything. I did too make changes to the world. Yet, I gave time to myself. You kept on giving a piece of yourself to this world.”

He stays silent. He absorbs your words into his mind and thinks of a response. One that is witty, that could make you laugh. Yet, your words fell deep into his heart, leading him to be unable to deflect.

“You are insufferable, you know that? When you’re speaking truths like this, it’s like you always see me through.” He says, squinting his eyes at you. You simply smiled at him. And he hates that he only got a smile out of you. He wants more. He needs more of you.

Willing to risk his all, he finally wears his heart on his sleeve. “I still talk to you, you know.” He looks down at his drink, avoiding your eyes that await for his gaze to meet yours. “Not you — you. You in my memories. The one that always tells me off when I’m being an ass. Yeah, well, she’s ass too. Crazy annoying.” He playfully rolls his eyes, cracking jokes here and there.

“Welp, she learnt from the best, didn’t she?” You clinked your glass with him, taking one last sip before the drink in your hand finishes.

It’s pathetic, really. The way he keeps on saying jokes. He was desperate to capture a crack of your smile and let his memory record each second of it. Yet he doesn’t care, because it seems like this is the only time that he has to refresh his memory of your laughter. This night.

He leans to the balcony, swirling the cubed ice in his drink. The air between you two shifted. You don’t know whether it was tension or regret. But it was something that you and Tony could feel at the moment. The air was thick and it was very hard for the both of you to swallow.

Adding to that shift of air, he asked with a soft voice, quieter than usual. “Do you ever think about what would’ve happened if we were to work out?” You were surprised with his quiet voice. This was him speaking with no facade of his ego masking his words. When you face him with a questioning look and meet his eyes, he simply shrugs. You took a long deep breath.

“Yeah.”

“What’d you think?” He doesn’t miss a beat to ask the question. It took you some time to think of an answer. It was now your turn to avoid his eyes. And God, didn’t you wish you’d poured more alcohol into the glass? Being drunk could really be of help right now. You looked to the skyline above and answered.

“We would’ve been one hell of a couple.” Though Tony chuckled at your response, a pang was felt to his heart. A little waver in his chuckle could be heard and it was a tint of longing for that to happen, with a little regret that he did not fight for it. But little does he know, a part of you said the joke with a yearn that it would’ve happened.

Shaking his head, he looks far to the city lights of New York City, seeing flickering lights of the streets, similar to the flickering spark in his heart at the moment. A beat of silence, as you can only hear the busy sound of the sleepless city. A moment for you to ground yourself. Think clearly before stepping further down the rabbit hole of emotional wreck.

“I miss you.” He says with a clear voice. No waver or shake in his tone, he was sure of how he felt. And your heart can’t help to fluster at the fact he used present tense, not past tense. He did it on purpose and you noticed.

“Not a day has passed without me thinking about us. Well, not in the, ‘aw we were so sweet’, more like ‘what the hell was I thinking letting that go?’”

“Don’t beat yourself up. You weren’t ready, I wasn’t too. We were brilliant, but we were immature. Too much fire, but no groundings whatsoever.” You fold your hands to your chest, feeling the breeze of the city. Yet somehow, this resembles your heart too. Guarded.

“Plus we are grownups now, Tones.” That damn nickname. His heart melts each time your honeyed voice say his name like that. And he hasn’t realized that he misses that cheesy nickname so much. How he have missed you calling him by that name every day with your voice.

He sees the resolute in your eyes. “Let’s not live in a series of what-ifs and hypotheticals. Face what is in front of us and not be stuck on what has passed.”

Tony pauses and takes a moment to look at you. He knows you all too well. A yearn for more is there inside your eyes, and he knows it is too inside his. And he doesn’t want to hide it. He wants you to know that he too wants more. More of time, more of you.

“But what if I don’t want it to pass?”

“Tony.” The sudden change of his name from your calling hurt him. He stings at how easy it is for you to set a wall, a boundary between you. Seconds ago, you called him by one of the most endearing nicknames, now you are back to identifying him as a simple co-worker.

But he doesn’t care. “I can’t bear the days without you. I’m not trying to rewrite the past. I can’t go on a day remembering that you don’t call me Tones anymore, but Tony.” His gaze softens as he lets out all that has been in his heart.

“Tony, stop it. I–” You let go of your folded hands. You let your guard down. No more walls, no more caution. You are way beyond being careful.

“I hope this is not some half-assed confession with simply borrowed guilt that you have decided to pull just because you’re lonely tonight and haunted by the past.” As Tony was ready to protest, you shushed him real quick. You continued to finish where you had left off.

“But if this is real,” You slide your hands towards his hands. You intertwine your fingers, and you can’t help but notice how perfectly your hands fit, as if your hands were molded to hold each other.

You continued. “If this is real, come to me with your love. Show me how much you love me, and I hope it is not with some empty shelled promises and hollow words of flirts. I want your efforts.”

You were breathless. He was too. You were both out of breath, yet you had never felt so full of life. It felt like the first time of exhaling after years. Your breath felt whole again with him on your side. This was what you both had been yearning for. You both have learnt from your mistakes, got more mature, and became the best version of yourselves. Now, you are back to gather the pieces that your pasts have abandoned and piece them together.

“Then that is what you will get. All of it. No way around, no shortcuts. Simply me trying. No running, I’m here.” Tony says, gripping your hand. It was not too strong of a hold, but enough to give you reassurance.

Your heart swells at this. This is a version of Tony that has yet to be shown by him to you. One that has grown by time, got wiser, and resonates with confidence. You both are here. Back together as stronger, wiser versions of yourselves.

You wish you could say more, but a simple “Good night, Stark.” was all that you could let out. You gave him a peck on the cheek, before you make your way back into the tower.

“Goodnight, Doc.” He mutters with a glint of a smile.

And just like that, something shifts. Not everything is fixed. Not everything is easy. But for the first time in a long time, it feels like something is beginning again. They had grown, and this time, they are growing together.

[cherdior]

Give Time.

bucky barnes x gn!reader

synopsis – The time when Bucky learns why you have always kept your distance from him. warnings – angst! slight mention of torture and screams. word count – 1.2k words background – You and the Winter Soldier had a background in the Red Room. For a period of time, the Winter Soldier was one of those who trained you with no mercy. author's note – English is not my first language, plus it has been quite some time since I have last written a fanfic. HAVE MERCY

It has been quite some time since Bucky joined the others living in the compound. The early days were quite awkward due to his history, but by the time each of them opened up to him. They had games together, jokes shared amongst them, and he even started to get invited to Tony’s parties. However, there was one particular person whom he hasn’t really melted the ice with. You.

Sure, little conversations were made in the morning, but that was if you were too groggy to keep your guards up. In game nights, galas, and parties, his eyes would catch your eyes in the middle of the crowd, only for you to direct them anywhere but to him.

Tonight is no different. The team are circled, sitting in sofas and chairs, deep into a game of cards with bets made. Almost an hour has passed, and not even once have you batted an eye at Bucky’s direction or even at the people next to him.

“Fold.” Bucky mutters as he throws his cards on the table.

“Ha! I won!” The excitement courses through you, somehow bringing your gaze to fall to the last man who folded. Bucky, who has never taken his eyes off of you, once again caught your eyes that were full of joy falter at the sight of him. It aches him to see your joy seemingly be robbed off of you whenever he’s in sight. So he lowers his gaze to his drink in his hand. So did you.

Steve, who coincidentally saw the moment you and his eyes locked with each other, noticed the tensed shoulders of his best friend. “You okay?” He nudged Bucky. The other let out a low hum, trying to express that he’s fine, which Steve knows is a lie. He’s uncomfortable. Bothered. The way Bucky keeps on circling the ice in his drink tells him so.

In the midst of groans and complaints of loss, your response was just a light laugh. A restricted one at that. Bucky notices. You clear your throat, gathering the chips they bet on the table, before taking a sip of your drink. He knows you’ll call it a day. He has noticed the pattern of habits that you do before you depart. “Guys, I’m off for tonight.” You get up from your seat.

“Sweets, it’s not even past 11 pm!” Tony’s words slur, influenced by the continuous drinking. “You sure you want to miss all the fun?” He continues while counting his chips, which are unfortunately little in amount. You chuckled, “You call taking you drunkards to your beds fun? I’ll pass on that.”

“I’ll talk to them.” Steve said lowly to the one next to him, patting Bucky’s leg, before leaving his seat soon to follow you. Before you step out of the room, Steve comes behind you. “Mind me tagging along?” He flashes you a smile. You shook your head, “You are welcome, good sir.” You say as you exit the room, with Steve next to you.

The compound was huge, so strutting through it silently with only steps resonating throughout the whole room is no wonder.

“Hey.” Steve’s voice cuts through the quiet between you two. “Have you…” You stopped in your tracks. Though he doesn’t finish his sentence, you know what he was going to ask. He presses his lips together, showing signs of hesitance. Contemplating whether to continue his next few words. “…forgiven him?”

You turn your heel, facing him now. Steve notices the red in your eyes before you have spoken. “I’m trying to, Steve.” A little tremble was heard in your voice. He sighs, “It was not him, you know?” He was not asking a rhetorical question. This was simply another plea for you to make up with the past. “I know that better than anybody.” You let out a huff. But does knowing that fact make anything better?

“I don’t know how Tony did it but,” Your voice got choked up. You swallowed hard and took a deep breath. “It’s not easy to see the same face who tortured you and then be told that it’s not him.” This was no news to Bucky. He still remembers your face of terror from the Red Room. Your screams were etched into his brain. It was selfish of him to think that it would be easy for you to forgive him. “To see the same hands that murdered your family, only to find out that they are not the same person.” Steve was silent. He chose to be, because his friend who is creeping behind the walls needed the answer.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky had followed the two of you out of the room. He hadn’t meant to, not at first. But when he saw Steve trailing after you, something in him urged him to go. He stayed back, hidden in the shadows, listening to every word.

“I don’t have anyone to blame, Cap.” You let out a dry, humourless laugh. “Every time I see him, I am filled with hatred.” His heart was stabbed as he heard you speak with tremble. He knows he was at fault, yet it hurt him. “Because of what he has done to my family. To me.” He hates himself too, for what his body had done. For how his control of his own life was taken. “And every time that hatred appears, guilt creeps onto me, cause I’m blaming an innocent man who was used by others.” Tears well up to the brim of your eyes. You have always hated having this feeling. A tug of war between your past and your cosncience. “A part of me wants to reach out to him, but the past holds me. What am I supposed to do, Steve?” The tears spill. Your breath ragged.

A short, shaky breath was heard. It was Bucky’s. He didn’t even notice he had held his breath hearing you talk. He wasn’t expecting anything towards your response, but he didn’t expect for you to not hate him. For you to hate the Winter Soldier and not hate him. He feels it too in his heart. Pain, hatred, guilt. Not only his, he carries yours too. You were both victims of this cruel world.

He wanted to step out of the shadows. To reach out to you, reconcile. Make amends with not only his past but yours too. His throat tightened. He flexes his metal fingers, his arm weirdly feeling heavier than usual, when he knows it was his heart that sits heavy. There’s so much that he wants to say. Yet, his longing wavered. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. It was not up to him to make the choices. And so, he remains where he is at.

Your hand trembles to wipe the tears. “Alright”, Steve brings your hair behind your ears, rubbing slow circles on your back, giving you warmth and grounding you. “Take a breath now. Figure it out when you’re ready. No rush, ‘kay?” You swallowed your hiccups, trying to collect yourself. You nodded.

“Just,” you avert your eyes from Steve to the shadow that is placed behind the pillar. “Wait for me, Barnes.”

Bucky faltered. A string of hope appears in his heart. Maybe it would be possible for you to tread a new path. For this distance to close and for the wall to break. And until that day comes, until you take the first steps to fix this old tale of yours, he’ll remain where he’s at, waiting for you.

[cherdior]

"what 'cha wanna read today?"

꩜ .ᐟ marvel

꩜ .ᐟ haikyuu

recently posted . . . ⭑.ᐟ BUCKY BARNES ⤷ Till' Death Do Us Part ⤿ Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go.

recommendations . . . ⭑.ᐟ TONY STARK ⤷ Exes and Explosions ⤿ After quite some time away from each other, an emergency reunites old partners. The difference? You both have grown.

[cherdior]

"heya, don't forget we have rules here!"

｡𖦹°‧ sending me a request means you have read the notices & rules.

⋆˚࿔ the rules are . . . 1. You should respect and be kind to everyone! 2. Not to send any inappropriate contents nor requests. 3. I won't write any inappropriate nor suggestive stuffs.

⋆˚࿔ notice! 1. I am not comfortable in discussing inappropriate stuffs. 2. Most of my writings here are in a form of one-shots or drabbles. 3. If you are just mean in general, do not interact.

[cherdior]

"ya wanna know more about dior?"

˚⋆𐙚｡ 𖦹.ᡣ𐭩˚ Get to know me, dior, who writes these fanfics! :)

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Ab. me! ᯓ 8teen ᯓ Asian ᯓ 8th Nov ᯓ Future business major

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Favs! ᯓ Romcoms ᯓ Marvel ᯓ Animes ᯓ Foods !!!

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Dislikes :( ᯓ Veggies ᯓ Mean people

[cherdior]

"For today you happen to be defeated. But what will you become tomorrow?"

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Welcome to the haikyuu section!

⭑.ᐟ BOKUTO KOTARO ⤷ ? ? ? (In Progress) ⤿ When his world seems to crumble, you are there to accompany him.

[cherdior]

There's a shawarma joint about two blocks from here. I don't know what it is, but I wanna try it.

୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ Welcome to the marvel universe!

⭑.ᐟ BUCKY BARNES ⤷ Give Time ⤿ Bucky finds out why the distance between you two doesn't seem to dissapear.

⤷ Till' Death Do Us Part ⤿ Even after your death, he continues to love you, so you stayed. You watch him fill the silence with old conversations, clinging to what used to be. But tonight, you finally ask him to let you go.

⭑.ᐟ TONY STARK ⤷ Exes and Explosions ⤿ After quite some time away from each other, an emergency reunites old partners. The difference? You both have grown.

[cherdior]

I refuse to watch Demon Slayer’s new episode, I’m not ready mentally and physically. I need a therapy appointment bro